Lights Out, Campers

Chapter One

NOW

"I just don't think you should be going", my mother tells me from across the kitchen counter.

Mum has never been America's biggest supporter. She was always nervous about the guns and GST not being included in the original price and whatnot, but when Donald Trump won the presidency in 2016, that was when she decided she would never be visiting.

"Mum, it's fine, really. I want to go", I insist. But she doesn't want to hear it. To her, even visiting the country means you have a death wish.

"Pheebs, I really don't want you to go. I mean what if you get shot?"

I scoff at this, and she gives me a look as to say, 'Don't laugh like it's outlandish'. Yes, there is a slight chance I could come face to face with gun violence, and yes, it is far more likely happening there than here, but that doesn't mean it will happen. We live in a country town in Australia, on the border of Victoria and New South Wales, where crime pretty much stops at fifteen-year-old kleptomaniacs stealing perfume from Victoria's Secret. So, I understand her worry. To a certain extent.

"I'm not going to get shot", I tell her. "There won't be guns at a summer camp!"

"You never know."

I roll my eyes.

"When would you be leaving?"

"A week."

She shakes her head and throws up her hands.

Three weeks ago, I applied to Camp Black Lake, a summer camp at, you guessed it, Black Lake. I had never heard of it before, but I found out it's in Michigan. About a four-and-a-half-hour drive from Detroit. Five days ago, I received an email telling me that I was accepted but decided not to tell Mum about it until now because I knew how she'd act. It gave me enough time to have a day trip down to Melbourne and visit the US consulate to obtain a working visa. I booked my flights and my one-night stay in Detroit, which are both non-refundable. Now, there is nothing Mum can say that will change my mind.

Maybe she's right, and maybe it is dangerous, but I need a change. If I have to be in this shitty town for another second, I think I'll lose my mind. I know everyone here and they know me. I can't hide. Every second I stay feels like another brick being placed on my chest until no air can fill my lungs.

Especially after what happened.

But that isn't what this is about. I'm going away because I need to grow, and I can't do that here. I'm not going because–

"I just feel like you're running away, honey", Mum says. "I don't want you to feel like you have to move countries just to escape–"

"I'm not running away", I say abruptly.

She sighs. "What about Will? He's such a lovely boy. You can't just up and leave when people are counting on you."

"Well, we're not together anymore."

Her jaw drops. Will, the boy who dropped out of school in year ten and is now a full-time tradie. Somehow, he managed to woo every mother, and her book club, in town, even though he is the exact thing they all warn us against. Drug dealer, dropout, drives a Ute. We dated for just short of a year, but I ended it last week. He was too hard to be around after the accident. It's like I snapped out of a trance and fully realised who he was. I knew deep down he wasn't someone I would marry, but it turns out he's not even someone I want to date.

Amelia, my best friend, always disliked him. Well, I guess she's now my ex-best friend, but her opinion matters to me nonetheless. If I trusted her about him, maybe we'd still be best friends.